


Midnight Hour at the Coffee Shop

by doctor_merlin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Castiel is a Little Shit, Cheating, Dean is a Little Shit, Emotionally Repressed Winchesters, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining Castiel, Pining Dean, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_merlin/pseuds/doctor_merlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody needs a safe place.<br/>Dean Winchester seems to have found his safe place  at a coffee shop that stays open till two am.<br/>Oh and his opinion of the place has nothing to do with the very attractive, annoying as all hell, college student that he always seems to run in to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Midnight Crowd Sure is a Depressing One.

There isn’t a lot you could say about Seattle Washington, it has bland weather, and the people are okay. But one thing you could say without any doubt is that we really like our coffee. Now yes that is a very cliche thing to say. We also have interesting music, nice restaurants and even some pretty cool parks. But one of the biggest things, and to this story one of the most important things about Seattle is our coffee. Specifically our coffee shops. 

Somewhere in Seattle there is a coffee shop, it isn't really a good one, the coffee is average and the staff usually keeps to themselves. They have comfy chairs and large windows that look over the mildly busy streets. The only difference between this mediocre business and every other one, is that it stays open till two am every night. Which is how Dean Winchester found himself half asleep, feeling absolutely empty, walking into this coffee shop at twelve am. 

Dean was exhausted, and he wished he could just back to his own apartment. But he couldn’t, things were messy there. Dean hated messy, hated things he didn't understand, hated when he had to focus in on exactly what he was feeling and why. It was better that he just ignored those feelings, or push them as far out of mind as possible. He wished he could get away from all of that messiness for good. But sadly he couldn’t, sometimes he could only get away for a few hours, and it looked like Dean had found his safe haven for those few hours.

The coffee house was nearly empty expect for some old man. Who had one too many layers on to be comfortable in this warm climate, a woman with ridiculously bright red hair and a way to large smile for someone who was working the graveyard shift at a coffee shop on a tuesday. And then there was another guy, sitting perched in front of a computer, some hipsterish navy blue scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, along with a pair of large thick rimmed glasses. Dean strode over to the lady ordering his usual black coffee with room for cream, Dean didn't know why he always left room for Cream, he never actually got any cream instead just left more space in the cup. It was ridiculous that he did such a thing, but he couldn't bring himself to change it. 

Dean took the hot cup of coffee into his hands not bothering to get a sleeve for it, seeing as he was already cold, and relished the way the warmth of the coffee slightly burned his finger tips. the feeling of only the heat pushing out any other feeling. Dean had always liked warm better then cold, always preferred to wear three sweaters and a leather jacket, then to have to deal with being cold, his father might call it being weak, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. 

Dean moved to sit at the counter top that over looked the street. There were barely any people out. A few sad drunks wobbling to their respectable vehicles, in which there was a high chance that they would probably get in some sort of senseless accident. There was a woman holding a child across the street. The woman seemed cold, she was wearing a small dress that stopped just above her knees, her hair slicked into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing sun glasses. At night. Dean couldn't help but wonder who wore sun glasses at night. Assholes that’s who. The child of the woman was tugging at her arm weakly, obviously throwing some sort of tiny tantrum that Dean could not hear from this distance. All in all the midnight crowd sure was a depressing one. 

Dean eventually got bored of his little people watching game when the woman finally payed attention to her child. So he turned around, his gaze moving throughout the bland coffee shop, his eyes zoning in on the most interesting suspect. Mister 'i don’t care that my pants are probably cutting off my circulation'. The boy had nearly jet black hair, shot up in all directions. He had a little bit of muscle, but wasn't exactly what Dean would call buff. Mildly pale skin as if he spent all of his time inside looking at that damn computer, and if he did who exactly was Dean to judge. 

Everything else was hidden either by the lap top or by the small wooden table. But when the boy looked up Dean almost dropped his coffee. It was cliche really, but the boys eyes were insanely blue. It was as if god had been drunk when he had been applying the pigments to the guys eyes. And suddenly it sank in that the guy was staring back at him. Or that more importantly Dean had been caught staring.

Fuck

The guy probably thinks i am some perverted stalker 

But then the boy raised one eyebrow as if issuing some sort of challenge, as if trying to egg Dean on to say something. Anything. And boy did Dean want to, he wanted to strike up some sort of conversation, hear this mystery boys voice, here how he spoke. But of course Dean, suddenly overtaken by an uncharacteristic awkward shyness and instead just grabbed his coffee.

Well what would be the good about talking to him anyway, I mean look at yourself.

Dean's eyes finally dropped away from This odd boy, letting him win this round of the apparent staring contest that they had both unknowingly entered. 

About a half an hour later Dean had finally finished his coffee and begrudgingly got up and headed out the door, the cold air shocking him for a second before he continued to walk, climbing into his impala without any grace or finesse, and drove back to the crappy apartment he had been trying to get away from in the first place.


	2. Hoodies are So Last Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a silly little second Chapter  
> Dean and Castiel actually talk.  
> I hope you enjoy! Please leave Comments/Kudos if you enjoyed!

It was almost two weeks later when Dean finally walked, well more of stumbled, back into that same coffee shop. He didn't know why he went there. He had just gotten into his impala and started driving, looking for some place, any place. One that would be open, and that wasn't a club. The last thing Dean needed was to go to some club. The Coffee shop, as before was nearly empty, the same all to perky barista with an all to bright smile, and a shirt with a logo from a band that Dean had never heard of. But more importantly there was the same man. Wearing a different obnoxious scarf, and if was possible his hair was even stuck up in more places, as if he had just had some girl grabbing at it. That idea made a wave of nausea role over Dean.

Dean walked over to the girl. His hands stuck into the pockets of his sweatshirt the hood of it, over his own slightly less messy hair.

"Coffee please, black, leave room for cream" he grunted out.

"that will be all?" the woman asked, she didn't have a bad voice, it was soft but firm. As if she wasn't trying to flirt with Dean nor patronize him. It was refreshing to be honest.

"Yes" He replied curtly, Dean had never been one to be good at small talk. He shoved a crinkled up half ripped five dollar bill onto the counter, hating that the coffee here was so damn expensive. He collected his change and moved back over to the window, continuing his usual, slightly creepy pass time of people watching. While also trying desperately to ignore the feeling that someone was staring at him.

"You know hoodies are so last season" Said an almost ridiculously gravely voice. One that made a shiver go down Deans spine. Slowly, gingerly, he turned to face the subject of the voice. He nearly gasped when he saw who it was. Dean should not have been so surprised, there were only so many people that could have said it, but still he had always thought that the boys voice would be higher, or slightly less forty year old smoker, but for some stupid reason it was even better.

Dean swallowed realizing he had been silent for the past minute, and had been blatantly staring at the boy. "y-yes i am aware of the fashion trends but I simply live for defying them" He snarked back, his words growing less and less hesitant as he spoke.

Then the odd boy let out a short laugh, and for a second everything else didn't seem to matter as much and Dean was not one for saying cheesy things but this guys laugh made him want to smile, made him want to grin from ear to ear.

stop

He had to remind himself not to do anything stupid.

"You know kid, I think I might not tell the fashion police on you for that horridness sweatshirt, just because you didn't order a drink that was ninety five percent sugar" He said, sitting down in the seat next to Dean, almost invading Deans personal space.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You noticed what I ordered?" He asked, unable to keep from smiling at Castiel.

"I think you will find that I am a very observant person." He said in a tone Dean could tell that there was some other meaning behind. One that Dean had no chance of understanding.

"Interesting, though i would think you it would be hard to observe me considering you always seem to be very invested in that computer." Dean says glancing down towards the small lap top that Castiel had set down on the table.

"Well you see I can focus on many things at once." He replied his hand running over the top of the computer, in a sort of way one would pet a cat. Dean snorted rolling his eyes.

"Well i am glad that you have the capability to stalk while being obsessed with a computer" Dean retorted, shifting in his seat so that he was facing this boy.

"It's not stalking just observing, and I mean, come on, you are a very difficult person to ignore" He said with a very irritating smirk.

Dean let out a soft confused laugh. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well I mean you are kinda rocking the whole mysterious bed head midnight patron thing. It's very alluring" He stated with a shrug. A light blush spreading over Deans cheeks making his freckles stand out. Quickly he grabbed his coffee taking a sip, trying desperately to hide his reaction to this guys comment.

"Yeah well you are kinda rocking the whole nerdy weird stalker midnight patron thing" Dean reposted, biting his bottom lip gently.

"Why thank you...I'm Castiel by the way, unless you want to keep calling me stalker"

"I don't know stalker does have a very nice ring to it." Dean joked tapping his finger against his chin, as if he was actually considering it.

"Fine, but if you do, then i am gonna to call bed head boy"

"Fine, fine, if I must I'll call you Castiel," He said. "and you can call me Dean, just by the way" Dean added on quickly, not wanting to be called Bed Head Boy.

Dean talked to Castiel for the rest of the suddenly very short night, until the red haired woman, had informed them that she had to close the coffee shop. Dean was terrified by how easy it was to talk to Castiel. They had talked about nothing and everything, he learned that Castiel had a big family that he was not on great terms with. And was majoring in english at university of Washington. And Dean had told him about his younger brother going to college at Stanford. And the entire night was scarily easy.

Dean drove slowly back to the apartment, looking towards the bedroom weakly before grabbing the ratty old blanket that he kept in the corner and curled up in the lazy boy recliner, falling into a sleep filled with the image of an annoying smirk and a pair of blue eyes.


End file.
